Darkmantle
by DrFrankenburger
Summary: The Possibly Practical Classics Crew find themselves in trouble in Hersheba and Klatch. Rated M for violence, mild suggestiveness and Hershebian Smoking Mixture.


**Darkmantle**

_Disclaimer._

_The Discworld, its characters, countries and institutions are the intellectual property of the late Sir Terry Pratchett and his heirs. This story is for entertainment only and I claim no commercial interest in it._

_The late John Buchan's 'Greenmantle' is, I am given to understand, at least partly set in the Middle East of Roundworld. This tale begins in Hersheba, a similar sort of Discworld country, so I kind of cribbed the name a bit, punning slightly on the colour of Goatly's robe._

_Ghostwritten on behalf of the Possibly Practical Classics Crew by DrFrankenburger, following their semi – coherent, still slightly hung over babbling to him of their intoxicated adventure._

_Vocabulary for new readers: A yennork is a monomorphic (ie can't transform) werewolf. They have both the strengths of a werewolf (very strong and tough, hard to kill permanently, acute senses of smell and hearing) and the vulnerabilities (pre – lunar tension, hunting instincts coming to the fore at full moon, silver, fire and, in Vladimir's case, a taste for aniseed.) Vladimir is human – shaped. _

This was becoming something of a routine situation, but an impulsive and short – tempered yennork can easily get into a lot of trouble. They were clear of the trouble now, hidden among the dunes, as far as he could focus his strangely distorted mind on the situation, but the arrow in Vladimir's chest was a worrying feature of the scene. Then the sun rose. He saw Vladimir fall flat on his back.

Then his vision _changed_. It wasn't a hallucination. At least, given what he could see, he hoped it wasn't. If there was any reality to it at all, it was of a kind a wizard could handle at least.

'JULIANUS, WOULD YOU PLEASE STOP TRYING TO SEAT YOURSELF PILLION ON BINKY ? THANK YOU. HE KNOWS BETTER THAN TO GIVE A RIDE TO ANYONE WHO ISN'T ENTITLED TO IT.'

Good, the apparition was who he thought he was. Now he had to remember his own name. Something emerged through the mental fog, the headache and the nausea. Goatly, yes, he was Doctor Goatly, post – mortem communicator **(1)** and recently appointed Professor of Possibly Practical Classics, Unseen University. His assistant was trying to run off to the afterlife again, and their companion Vladimir the Splatter had picked up yet another mortal injury.

'I'LL TAKE OUT THE ARROW. HIGHLY IRREGULAR I KNOW, BUT GIVEN THE STATE YOU'RE IN, YOU'D MAKE A RIGHT MESS AND VLADIMIR WOULD GIVE YOU GRIEF OVER IT.'

The cowled figure knelt, laid its scythe on the rapidly warming desert sand and curled bony fingers around the shaft of the arrow in Vladimir's chest. Moments later the arrow lay on the sand and the figure was standing by its horse, once again arguing with the ghost of Julianus the Gladiator.

'I warned him to watch out for the arrow ! How was I to know he wouldn't react !'

'GENERALLY YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO WARN PEOPLE ABOUT AN ARROW BEFORE IT HITS THEM. YOU REALLY NEED TO KEEP A CLEARER HEAD IN A PLACE LIKE THIS. YOU CANNOT COME WITH ME. I THINK VLADIMIR WOULD APPRECIATE THE INPUT FROM YOU AND GOATLY ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED HERE. YOU HAVE TO STAY. YOU HAVE NOT COMPLETED YOUR UNFINISHED BUSINESS.'

Vladimir's eyes flickered open, his heart began to beat again and his breathing resumed. He sat up.

'BACK IN THE LANDS OF THE LIVING I SEE. YOU DO GET YOURSELF KILLED IN SOME EXOTIC PLACES, DON'T YOU ? WELL, MY BUSINESS IS CONCLUDED HERE GENTLEMEN. I'M NOT REALLY SUPPOSED TO TELL YOU THIS, BUT YOU NEEDN'T PUT YOUR AFFAIRS IN ORDER JUST YET.'

The apparition faded out.

'Still stuck with you two, I thought that might have been my departure from this vale of tears.'

'Speaking as someone who just came back from a mortal injury, that's a bit poetical for you Julianus, and more than a touch self – centred.'

The bickering began. Three men **(2) **were stranded in the Hershebian desert, and faced with piecing together how it happened.

'Well I know we went boozing after we concluded matters with the Hunt. We made sure to temper it with Klatchian coffee, but that didn't stop us getting rodent – tailed...'

'That's probably understating it Goatly, if my headache is anything to go by. The arrow wound has healed a treat, thank you for asking.'

'Anybody got any ideas what we actually did ? I was timesharing in Goatly's mind so as not to miss the fun.'

'And failed to keep a proper lookout because of it Julianus. Sometimes I wonder how many training accidents you had before the one that finished you off.'

'I remember running out of aniseed. **(3) **We went looking for somewhere to buy some. We were thinking in terms of countries like Hersheba and Klatchbeing big on selling herbs and spices.'

'Your aniseed wasn't a problem, it was readily available in the _souk, _but it took a bit longer to get my tobacco pouch topped up again.'

'You and Julianus smoke too much.' **(4)**Vladimir sniffed the air obviously scenting something.

'Funny, I can smell fear, and it's not you Goatly. Some of it's heading away from us at quite a speed, and there's a lot of it. There's also another fear scent heading for us from the same direction, but it's less like fear, more like...caution.'

Vladimir sniffed again,

'Strange scent in the air, left over from the herb vendor, can't quite place it.'

The discussion stopped. The caution scent was suddenly explained. The presence of a patrol of soldiers. If you're a party of hunters lost in a desert, not sure of what you've been doing, and one of you was recently shot, this isn't necessarily a reassuring situation.

The soldiers' uniforms added to the unease now felt by the Possibly Practical Classics Crew. White kepi, very dark tunic, white trousers, knee – high black boots. Klatchian Foreign Legion.

Oops.

They had been hunting and then on the spree in Hersheba. The Klatchian Foreign Legion operated in Klatch.

They were led by a young officer who was probably inexperienced. He actually seemed to know what he was about. **(5)** He checked a notebook. Then he addressed the man he considered looked the most professional. **(6)**

'I see you are a wizard sir, would you care to identify yourself and by any chance did you see a whole D'reg village fleeing the area ? We encountered them while we were investigating what looked like light from fireballs and lightning bolts in the desert and at first I thought they were charging at us. Then they ran past and just carried on going, at high speed. I caught a few words as they passed. 'Monster,' Achmed the Mad' and 'Hashishim.' You look as though you have some knowledge of the late Achmed's professional discipline too. **(7)**

Goatly took the floor.

'Doctor Goatly, Unseen University, my companions are Vladimir the Splatter, it would be unwise to upset him by the way, you wouldn't like him when he's upset, and, you'll have to take my word on this, Julianus the Gladiator. Yes Vladimir, what is it ?'

'That herbal scent. It was a mistake using Julianus' antique vocabulary when you were trying to buy pipe tobacco.'

The young officer interjected.

'You wouldn't be the first people to have made that kind of mistake.'

Vladimir looked thoughtful for a few moments.

'Not long after you lit up, we started joyriding on translocation spells just for the fun of it. Where are we by the way ?'

'A few miles inside the Klatchian border.'

'Well that explains why we aren't in town any more. And I know we didn't encounter you soldiers. The arrow that hit me came from something like a longbow. You are all armed with crossbows.'

Goatly's brow furrowed.

'Something's coming back to me. We took it into our heads to take a look at the palace gardens of the Rhoxie in Al Khali.'

'You must have had something else on your mind when you cast the spell, that's not where we ended up.'

'Well we did end up at the intended palace...'

'It's embarrassing when you are taking a leak behind a pillar to realize you've ended up in the seraglio.'

'Taking a leak ? Drunk or sober you do it more than most Vladimir. And I've seen a lot of guys over the last two thousand years.'

'Scent marking. It's a werewolf thing Julianus.'

'Well the way that guard who spotted us whipped his sword out, you could have got your werewolf thing chopped off !'

Goatly cautiously raised a finger.

'I think I know where I went wrong. _The Perfumed Allotment, or, The Garden of Delights _is not a gardening guide...' **(8)**

The officer interjected again.

'Sounds like unusual reading material for a wizard.'

He was aware of Goatly's unusually coloured eyes boring into him.

'Post – mortem communicators go for the 'babe magnet' aspects of our discipline. It's one of the reasons other wizards don't fully approve of us.'

'I think I know what happened Goatly. It also explains how I came to be shot. We cleared out from the Rhoxie on another spell in great haste, heading back in the general direction of Hersheba.

We turned up suddenly in the vicinity of the D'regs just before dawn. They must have assumed we were attacking them,'

'Thank you Vladimir, I've heard of the D'regs and I'm amazed we're still alive!'

The officer spoke again.

'Well, you seem to have done us a favour. That D'reg band had been quite troublesome in this district lately. It looks a lot like you drove them off. The black – robed wizard, the smell of Hershebian Smoking Mixture and the strangely dressed warrior must have convinced them they'd entered into a fight with _Hashishim.'_

'There were times when my staff seemed to have a mind of its own when it came to just thumping opponents and blocking incoming blows...'

A voice somehow entered the ears of everyone present. **(9)**

'Er, that was me, I was timesharing in your mind and I _was_ a gladiator.'

The officer spoke again. He seemed to be thinking carefully.

'If I'm to believe what I've just heard, you've been very useful in helping to pacify this district. However, there is the matter of trespassing at the Rhoxie, which the _Serif_ will take amiss. Do you have your bearings sufficiently well now to take yourselves back to a safe haven in Ankh – Morpork, Professor.'

'I can do that, I assume the D'reg business is why you are letting us go, but what about your men?'

'This is the Klatchian Foreign Legion, by the end of this business they'll be lucky to remember their own names, let alone you lot.'

'Thank you. If you and your men will step clear, I'll translocate us to a safe place in Ankh Morpork.'

Goatly cast the relevant spell, but the adjective 'safe' must have perturbed his still slightly fuddled attention.

Which is how Sergeant Fred Colon the duty custody officer at Pseudopolis Yard found the Crew in one of his cells, and they had to explain themselves to Commander Vimes. But that is another story.

(1) Not a necromancer at all, honest !

(2) In two cases here, for a given value of 'man.'

(3) A bad habit among some werewolves and yennorks.

(4) Goatly can share experiences with ghosts, it's a post – mortem communicator thing.

(5) Men join the Legion to forget. Then they do. A lot. Including what they are doing there.

(6) Relatively, but in antique helmet, bloody shirt and big boots, Vladimir didn't look that way.

(7) Klatchian necromancer (yes, I know,) wrote _Necrotelecomnicon,_ a necromancy sourcebook.

(8) Carrot Ironfoundersson made a similar mistake in Sir Terry's _Jingo._

(9) The desert can do very strange things to your perception.


End file.
